Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 348

Chapter 348: Leave It To The Professional

Blair rolled with it. The stumble lasted a quarter of a second before she planted her foot, leaned down into Marek’s hooded face, and grabbed the wet burlap with both hands.

"WHO WERE YOU MEETING WITH?"

Zero buildup. Zero context. Zero of the careful psychological framework Damon had been constructing. Blair Drakencrest had walked into a professional interrogation and turned it into a street fight in under four seconds.

"I don’t know what you’re—"

"WRONG ANSWER." She shook the bag. Water sprayed off the burlap in every direction. "You were in the eastern corridor at three in the morning talking about half-bloods and matebonds and severing bonds and kill switches. I HEARD you. Now give me a name or I will make this bucket look like a warm bath."

Damon leaned back in his chair, deciding whether to intervene or observe. His instincts said intervene. His intelligence said this might actually work faster.

He observed.

He had been in rooms with warlords, assassins, and a wolf king who could end a conversation by standing up. None of them had walked into a room and seized it the way Blair Drakencrest just did.

"Princess, you are making a grievous mistake," Marek sputtered through the wet sack. "Lord Solandris will—"

She shook it again. Harder. The chair creaked in its bolts. Water hit Damon’s boots, Brennan’s robes, and a six-foot radius of stone that had been dry three seconds ago. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Damon looked down at his boots. Looked back up at Blair. Did not move his feet. Moving them would be an acknowledgment that the situation had affected him and Damon was not prepared to acknowledge anything that was happening.

"Lord Solandris. You’re threatening ME with LORD SOLANDRIS." She let out an evil laugh. The kind of laugh that started in the chest and ended in a place that made every man in the room reconsider their life choices. "The man whose wife you’ve been inside of on a weekly basis. You think HE’S going to save you? Navarre, give me a break."

"You have no proof that I am doing that. Solandris will—"

Blair clapped twice in front of his bagged face. Marek jolted and let out a small scream.

"I didn’t bring a second bucket, Navarre. I brought FOUR. They are lined up in the hallway like little soldiers. Each one is colder than the last because I asked the kitchen to add ICE to the next one. The last one will burn your skin off."

In the hallway, Sterling pinched the bridge of his nose. Ryker took a swig of his flask. And Griffin was stuck determining if she had three more buckets or if that was a lie. He hadn’t seen her with more buckets.

Sterling cracked first. He opened the door. Marek had the bag on his face and wouldn’t see them. Ryker didn’t argue. Both of them wanted to watch the princess conduct this interrogation. Griffin was behind both of them, on his toes, trying to see over their shoulders with the energy of a man who had been banned from the conversation and was attending anyway.

Griffin dropped to a whisper so quiet it was almost lip-reading. "She’s also standing on his foot. Has been for the last thirty seconds. I don’t think anyone else has noticed."

Ryker looked. Blair’s left boot was planted directly on top of Marek’s right foot with the casual weight distribution of a woman who was either doing it on purpose or had the most strategically inconvenient posture in interrogation history.

Sterling: That’s intentional.

Ryker: Obviously it’s intentional. Everything she does is intentional. She BREATHES with intent.

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